training as a minister's son was always causing him to forget the
social gulf which is fixed between officers and the rank-and-file.
"Climbing ladders makes me dizzy."

"Och, it's naething! A body gets used tae it," Mr. Bogle assured him.

Angus was about to proceed further with the discussion, when the cold
and disapproving voice of the Draft-Sergeant announced in his ear--

"An officer wishes to speak to you, sir."

Second-Lieutenant M'Lachlan, suddenly awake to the enormity of his
conduct, turned guiltily to greet the officer, while the Sergeant
abruptly hunted the genial Private Bogle back into the ranks.

Angus found himself confronted by an immaculate young gentleman
wearing two stars. Angus, who only wore one, saluted hurriedly.

"Morning," observed the stranger. "You in charge of this draft?"

"Yes, sir," said Angus respectfully.

"Right-o! You are to march them to 'A' Company billets. I'll show you
the way. My name's Cockerell. Your train is late. What time did you
leave the Base?"

"Indeed," replied Angus meekly, "I am not quite sure. We had barely
landed when they told me the train would start at seventeen-forty.
What time would that be--sir?"